


to the arms and the lips

by iwatobiaquarium (daleked)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:18:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7113193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daleked/pseuds/iwatobiaquarium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Tony gestures. “You went from a sparrow to an eagle.”</em>
</p><p>  <em>“Yes,” Steve says. “Uh, I did.” </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been in Stony hell since April I can't believe it took me this long to join it proper by contributing fic.

It’s 3am when Tony manages to tear himself away from his work and go crawling into the kitchen for some food. He’d expected it to be empty, but he sees Steve, and he hears that totally unmanly hiss when Steve accidentally bashes his right wing into an open cupboard.

“I’ve seen your wings,” Tony says. “Before the Serum.”

Steve freezes on the spot before he turns around slowly. His wings flex a little, the feathers rising as he looks at Tony, gaze critical.

He’s holding an apple. _Of course,_ Tony thinks. _Of course Captain America would have an apple as a midnight snack. Well. Not midnight any more._

“Yeah?” Steve says neutrally.

Tony gestures. “You went from a sparrow to an eagle.”

“Yes,” Steve says. “Uh, I did.”  

It makes sense. Sometimes Tony sees Steve move as though these wings are too large for him, too expressive, and he banks far too hard; like he’s used to maneuvering with smaller wings. Tony’s own wings are small and loud. He has cardinal’s wings, bright red, touched with grey at the corners.

“How did it feel, going from a groundbird to a skyflier?” Tony asks, grinning. He has to bring lightness back to the kitchen, somehow, and Steve relaxes minutely.

“Different. These wings are big. You won’t believe how much time I spend grooming them.”

Tony waves his hands. “That’s what professional groomers are for. I can give you the number of my girls. You know, the ones that fix me up before events?”

Steve narrows his eyes at Tony. “The three magpies that came into the living room and shoved Clint off the couch because you didn’t want to move?”

“The hot triplets,” Tony sighs, because he’s an asshole. “I hear Tom Cruise has been angling to get them to do his wings. But they don’t do crazies. Except for me, of course.”

Steve smiles, and takes a bite of his apple. 

“Well, yeah, so if you want them just give me a call.” Tony continues, talking over the silence. “Uh, they’re really good. I have a crick in my phalanges sometimes, and the girls do some stretching, you know, massaging and rubbing with oils, and it feels great.” _For the love of god, Tony, shut up._

“I think grooming is kinda intimate,” Steve says, and Tony notices that he’s a little pinker than usual. “I... Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather do them myself.”

“Yeah,” Tony says, and because he’s an idiot, he doesn’t stop there. “It’s been a while since I’ve groomed anyone, but if you need help...” He trails off, because his self-control clearly kicks in way too late for any dignity-saving.

Steve’s eyes are wide, but they crinkle up just as quickly, and his smile is disarming. Seriously, fuck the shield, fuck S.H.I.E.L.D., fuck the U.N., because Tony is 100% sure that Steve Rogers could stop armies with that smile.

“Likewise,” Steve says agreeably, and when he walks out of the kitchen, his wings bump and jostle Tony just the slightest bit. It’s the beginning of every good porn film that Tony has ever watched, but Steve smiles at him, all rainbows and golden retriever-like, and Tony can’t think of porn. Not with wholesome Captain America saying _goodnight_ and _thank you_ , and _maybe we should take some time off Thursday night for grooming--_

Wait, what?

“Sure,” Tony says quickly, and Steve claps his shoulder and walks down the hallway towards his own room, wings bouncing with every step.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is chapter 2.

Steve grooms gently. It’s not like Tony likes it rough (har _har_ , Clint), but Tony’s used to speedy, efficient fingers that just want to get the job over and done with. Steve lingers on his feathers, brushing and tugging gently, and Tony has to focus on straightening the alula feathers before he does something embarrassing, like groan or whine, because Steve’s thumb is pressing into a sore spot near his tendon and god it feels good.

Steve’s wing flutters against his hand, reproachful for his still fingers, and Tony gets right back to work.

The pneumatic hiss of the door is the only alert they get before Bucky comes in, and his eyebrows hit his hairline.

“Oh,” Bucky says, and a grin spreads across his face.

Steve turns around. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” Bucky says, grin still firmly in place. “Some articles, good press about us... But I’ll leave you to it.” He spins around to leave the room.

Tony squints. He looks past the gentle chestnut colour of Bucky’s wings deepening into dark brown at the tips, and tries to discern the movement.

Bucky is definitely holding back laughter, damn him.

“He’s doing better in therapy,” Steve explains, back to grooming Tony’s wings. “But he's still... You know, I'm trying to not suffocate him. So he can do what he likes most of the day if it's not a bad one. Though I think I caught him flirting with Natasha the other day.”

“We’ve all been there,” Tony says, running his hands down Steve’s primaries to pull apart any knots. 

Steve’s hands pause for a second but resume working. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm,” Tony agrees. “But not my type. Her outer feathers are way too long. And her wings are bigger than mine.”

Steve laughs. “She’s a swift, what did you think? They’re perfect for how fast she has to move on the field.”

 Tony tries to focus on combing out a few feathers. “That childhood rhyme about your type, do you remember how it goes? _A duckling’s wings will soon be a duck’s, and a swan will stay the same_.”

“ _Swifts are swift, and owls are silent, and parrots always remember your name_ ,” Steve completes. “There, your wings are done.”

Tony can only look helplessly at Steve as he admires his work on Tony’s wings. They’d just spent an hour touching each other’s wings, and that’s nest behaviour. He hasn’t groomed anyone since the break up with Pepper.

It feels very much like home.

\--

[16:58] Clint: i heard you were getting touchy feely with america’s sweetheart  
[17:00] Tony: fuck off  
[17:01] Clint: bucky said so  
[17:01] Clint: came into the living room   
[17:02] Clint: SMIRKING  
[17:02] Clint: it’s like he’s ready to marry Steve off to you   
[17:03] Clint: and we all know what people say about guys with big wings in bed ;-)    
[17:06] Tony: is this ur way of telling me u have a small dick bc of ur hummingbird genes barton  
[17:07] Clint: ur a nasty man   
[17:07] Clint: but a nasty man that steve would fuxx with ;-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tony: cardinal  
> steve: bald eagle   
> bucky: harris's hawk  
> natasha: swift  
> clint: hummingbird


	3. Chapter 3

Tony is not messing around with his bed. Fine, he is, but only because Steve is infuriatingly gorgeous and constantly around and... Oh no.

“J,” Tony says aloud while eyeing his bed. “What am I doing?”

“Sir,” Jarvis responds immediately. “You are displaying nesting behaviour.” There’s a smug hint to his tone that makes Tony groan.

“For how long now?”

Jarvis pauses for a second. Then, carefully: “Two days now, Sir.”

“Since the-”

“Since the grooming session, I believe.” Tony’s nest is neater and more spruced up than it’s been in a decade. Lined with shirts that have been worn thin, along with cushions and the softest blankets on the market, it makes Tony itch to show it off. Stand next to it and spread his wings proudly, or something.

“What’s next for me?” Tony mumbles to himself, absently shifting a pillow to a more suitable spot.

Jarvis hears him and decides to ignore the fact that it was partly rhetorical. “You will soon feel the need to cook for Captain America to demonstrate your affections and capabilities as a potential mate, Sir. While your ancestors did feed their mates with their lips, this practice has been discouraged and replaced with providing for them.”

“Hah,” Tony mutters. “Me, feeding him. No.”

+

“You’re cooking,” Steve says, and Tony jumps about a foot in the air, wings fluffing up instinctively.

“No!” Tony shouts, then looks back at the pot he was watching. “Well, yes.”

Steve smiles innocently. He’s seated at the dining table, chin propped up on his hands to watch Tony. Steve moves like a cat. A cat that needs a bell on its collar. To stop it from scaring the life out of innocent birds like Tony.

Tony’s heart rate is still settling when Steve speaks. “That’s nice. What are you making?”

Tony frowns into the pot. “Cacio e pepe. Jarvis provided the recipe.” Steve walks over, front pressing into Tony’s wings as he looks over his shoulder.

“Looks like mac ‘n cheese to me,” Steve says, and laughs. Right next to Tony’s ear. Tony can’t stop the full-body shiver that goes down his back, and Steve steps away to grab bowls and forks.

“You have no sophistication whatsoever,” Tony says. “What are you doing?”

Steve blinks at him. “Getting ready to eat?” He holds up two bowls and looks hopefully at the pot. “It’s just the two of us, though, if you’re okay with that. You missed actual dinner a couple hours ago and I’m kinda hungry still.”

Tony looks at the clock on the wall. It’s midnight. He’d chosen to cook at this hour for two reasons-- one of them being that he was counting on Steve Rogers to be fast asleep like the rest of the Tower (except Nat, wherever she went). “You’re helping yourself to my food uninvited, Rogers,” Tony says in mock-outrage. “Prepare to die.”

“Not before tasting your mac ‘n cheese,” Steve says, grinning broadly.

Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s cacio e pepe.”

“I’ve heard Clint talk about some sort of Pepe,” Steve starts, but Tony holds the rubber spatula up threateningly. 

“We do not mention Clint in the presence of Italian food. It summons him.” They stay quiet for a minute after, just in case, and Tony tries to focus on tossing the spaghetti properly ( _tonnarelli_ , Jarvis says snidely in his head) before letting it stand to cool down. Tony then turns his attention to the sauce, and doesn’t notice Steve coming closer till--

“That smells amazing,” Steve says, and his voice is dark and husky and again, way too close. Tony can feel the heat radiating off Steve’s body, so close to his wings. “What is that, pepper?”

“Crushed black peppercorns,” Tony says, and his own voice is breathier than it has any right to be when not having sex. “Should be about done.” He adds the spaghetti to the pecorino sauce and tosses lightly, mixing in water from the pasta pot gradually until the sauce becomes less like a thick sludge and more like a creamy emulsion. “Done.” Tony picks the bowl up and turns around. 

“Cap, you gotta move.”

Steve steps back and his wings are oddly tense, as though he’s holding back somehow. But the smile on his face is easy and genuine, and he follows Tony to the table, watching him all the while. They eat in companionable silence, and Steve washes up after.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Steve says softly, drying the dishes. Tony is dozing off on the sofa after the hearty meal, wings fluttering as he tries to get into a more comfortable position that doesn't crush his wings.

“It’s not hard,” Tony says, fighting back a yawn. “When you’re a cardinal you get handed down cookbooks. For mating.”

Steve smiles fondly. “Yeah?”

Tony nods sleepily, and Steve sits down beside him, switching on the television but muting it. “J, dim the lights. I’m gonna catch some z’s.” Jarvis doesn’t reply, but the room darkens and Tony falls asleep with Steve’s wings against his. He doesn’t notice when Steve shifts closer so that Tony’s head can rest on his shoulder, and he isn’t awake to see Steve’s blush, either.

But he does sleep well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, [cacio e pepe](http://luckypeach.com/recipes/cacio-e-pepe/) is kind of like mac 'n cheese, so Steve isn't wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you thought of this. I can also be found on [tumblr](http://ukedio.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
